


Of the Victory of the Noldor

by senalishia



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - The Fëanorians Win, Gen, Pastiche, Use of the Palantíri in the First Age - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:25:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senalishia/pseuds/senalishia
Summary: Nerdanel shows up before the burning of the ships and things don't go quite so badly for Fëanor as a result. Written for the Innumerable Stars gift exchange.





	Of the Victory of the Noldor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



> The first two lines are quoted from _The Silmarillion_. Our story proceeds from there.

_But when they were landed, Maedhros the eldest of his sons, and on a time the friend of Fingon ere Morgoth’s lies came between them, spoke to Fëanor, saying: ‘Now what ships and rowers will you spare to return, and whom shall they bear hither first? Fingon the valiant?’_

_Then Fëanor laughed as one fey, and he cried: ‘None and none! What I have left behind, I count now no loss; needless baggage on the road it has proved. Let those that cursed my name, curse me still, and whine their way back to the cages of the Valar! Let the ships burn!’_

But ere he set fire to the first ship, one pushed forth from the host, and cried: ‘Hold!’ And Fëanor halted directly, though little had he ever heeded the advice of any, and the command of none; and all who gathered there stirred in amazement, for the voice was known to them as that of their Lady; wife to he who now called himself King of the Noldor, yet who had since the death of Finwë ever refused the title of Queen. 

It was thought that she had remained in Tirion when her kin had left, being unwilling to set herself against the will of the Valar. Yet as she sat in the darkened city beneath the light of the stars, she bethought herself continually of her sons, and of the fate destined for them, and particularly of the doom that had ever clung in her sight to the youngest, whom she held dear. So her heart drove her at last to leave the city, alone and in secret; and she, concealing her face and speaking to no one, joined with Fingolfin’s folk as they passed along the coast toward Araman. Then, knowing that her husband was ever prone to take some rash action, she noted when the ships were taken in secret, and stowed aboard one as they slipped away.

Now, having revealed herself at the very moment of the doom she hoped to prevent, she spoke no further, but entered the ship that Fëanor had been about to set alight, and led forth her son Amras who had been asleep within it. ‘Behold, that which you would sacrifice in your folly,’ Nerdanel rebuked Fëanor. ‘These you may deem your lesser works, but I have made no greater, and though I have sworn no oath I would give much to keep them.’

Hearing this, the fire of Fëanor’s rage cooled in part, and deep in the secret places of his heart he feared the Doom that had been pronounced by Mandos over the Noldor, though in his pride he would not acknowledge that the Valar had yet any power to change his course or his will. For in truth he valued his sons as the greatest of his creations, and the thought that his actions may have brought one of them to harm, even to death, caused him to consider finally the wisdom of his course. And Maedhros, knowing well his father’s moods and seeing that he wavered, said to him: ‘The ships need not be sent back across the sea, but neither must we squander that which we so dearly bought with the lives of our people. Let the ships remain here, under a small guard, perhaps, and we will retain the use of them, should we have need after we have pursued Morgoth and reclaimed that which is ours.’ And when he had said this, Curufin his brother raised his voice in support of him, for his own purposes; for though he would never dispute his father directly, he too had contemplated the uses to which ships might be put, and moreover himself missed some few of the people that had been left behind in Araman.

So the greater part of the host of Fëanor marched forth, leaving only a few of those he trusted well to watch over the ships. Many that had been injured in the crossing or in the taking of the ships remained as well; and his sons Amrod and Amras he set to head that small company, for after coming so near to being separated by death they would not be parted from each other, nor Nerdanel from them. Fëanor and the remainder of his sons led those most able to fight inland along the Firth of Drengist, ever watchful for signs of Morgoth or his creatures; though most, having been born in Aman, had heard but tales of these told by those who had made the great journey west.

They made their first camp on the shore of Lake Mithrim, as it was called by those that dwelt there, and the servants of Morgoth molested them not as they built such fortifications as they could under the light of the stars, in a place of unfamiliar trees and stones. For although the clamor of their arrival had been great as it echoed among the hills of Lammoth, it soon passed; and having no other sign of aught that had come to pass, the hosts of Morgoth knew not how to act, and bided until they could learn more.

Soon, however, the orcs grew overconfident, and seeing what had been built at Mithrim made an assault upon the forces of the Noldor. Yet their armies, though numerous, made little headway against that which the Noldor had built; for they were masters of many crafts, and had moreover still the strength of those nourished in Valinor, and the memory of the light of the Trees was in their eyes. For three days the Noldor slew orcs as they came against them, wave upon wave, until the plains of Mithrim were littered with their bodies. Even the force that had besieged Círdan’s people came up from the south, and a part of Fëanor’s army, led by Celegorm, rode out to meet them, and destroyed them utterly.

Now, Fëanor desired to press this advantage as fully as he might, and would have followed upon the heels of the stragglers fleeing homeward even unto the gates of Angband; but the fear that one of his sons might be lost to him still stung his heart as a new wound, and he would let none of them go far from his sight as they charged northward. Thus, when Morgoth sent his mightiest servants, his Balrogs with their whips of fire, to prevent their approach, Fëanor and his sons, with a small force, slew many of them, and harried the rest until they fled back to their master in defeat. Even then, Fëanor would have gone on, sensing now keenly the closeness of the jewels which he so desired to reclaim; but he had been sorely wounded, having ever thrust himself into the hottest part of the fighting, and after much pleading his sons persuaded him to return for a time to their camp at Mithrim.

Even the greatest of the Eldar, inflamed by the light of Aman and the desire for vengeance, may speed only so quickly the mending of his body, and as Fëanor lay recovering, he considered what he had seen of Morgoth’s power and how he might overcome it. And Maedhros came to him again, saying: ‘Our people have won a great victory, and have proven themselves strong, but they are few; too few, I deem, to overthrow that which we have seen resides in Angband. Allies we must gather, are we to fulfill our oath and recover the wealth of our house. The people of this land have been humbled already by Morgoth’s shadow; they are give more to lurk in their safe places than to openly oppose him. And will we trust them more than our own kin who await us still across the sea? Valiant warriors there are among them, and a great aid to our cause they would be.’ In this, Maedhros spoke in part falsely; for he had indeed wondered at the boldness and courage of many of the Sindar who had come to their aid in battle. But he knew the mind of his father, and would use any reasoning to win from him permission to send forth the ships waiting at Drengist and be reunited once more with Fingolfin’s people.

Although Fëanor had still little love for his half-brother, and less for those who loyally followed him, yet there is no craftsman who does not learn to take best advantage of the resources available to him. And once his ire had cooled somewhat, he began to contemplate how, far removed from the interference of the Valar, he might secure his position as king of all the Noldor, and not merely those in whom he had sufficient trust to bring with him at first. So he gave the order, and Maedhros and Maglor, along with those of their people who had showed the greatest aptitude for seamanship (though none yet had the skill of even a child of the Teleri) directed the ships westward once more.

Now, Fingolfin’s host, when they first saw that the ships had gone, waited at first, though already many murmured that they had been betrayed. And though much time passed, no sign came whether ships would come to carry them, or whether Fëanor had indeed abandoned them to beg the Valar for mercy, if they would. Then the will of the people was divided; some saying that to follow Fëanor had been folly from the start, and it were best return to Tirion as Finarfin and his few had; others that it was still too soon to tell, and they should wait a few more days at least (though their provisions were not limitless); and still others that no ships would come, that Fëanor’s people had abandoned them or perhaps had died during the crossing, but that they had for themselves their own reasons to leave Valinor, and would attempt the Grinding Ice before they would return in shame. Fingolfin listened to all of these, and spent many hours in solitary consideration, deciding what the truth might be, and which was the wisest course.

Finally, Fingolfin gathered all his people before him, and spoke to them thus: ‘We cannot know for certain what has become of our brethren, save that they left not as friends but as thieves, and every day that passes my heart doubts the more that they will ever return to bear us whither they have gone. But we may wait no longer: forward we must go, or back. The way through the Ice shall be difficult, yea perhaps even unto death; but the way back, through our pride, may be more difficult still. It is not a choice that anyone can make for another; I give you leave freely to return if you will. But as for myself, I can but continue upon the the course I have elected already, through dread hardship though it may be.’

The greatest part of Fingolfin’s host then chose to follow their lord, even many of those who had earlier spoken of returning. In the end, barely one-tenth of their number took this final chance to turn from their rebellion, and they marched south in the footsteps of Finarfin’s people. But when they had been gone but a few hours, and Fingolfin prepared to lead the company north, the first signs were seen of the ships returning at last. So great a cheer went up from the crowd that even those departing heard the noise, and turned and saw the ships also; for in those days, even moreso than now, the Elves possessed the power to see great distances even in the dark; and so the ships remained yet a long way off when they were first sighted. Then those that had thought to depart conferred among themselves, and agreed that they ought to go north once more and rejoin the main host, if there were some chance after all to cross the sea by ship. Thus when the ships reached the shores of Aman once more, Maedhros and Maglor and their crews were greeted by the whole of the company they had left behind. 

Three times the ships were required to cross and return to ferry all of Fingolfin’s people, and their gear and possessions, and each time the westward journey grew more perilous; thick mists rose up, so dense as to obscure the stars and confuse their navigation, and great whales and serpents of the sea followed in their wake as if to accost them, though in truth they did naught but frighten them. And the ire of the Valar could be felt as haze in the air; so that the third time as they loaded the ships, they had no doubt but that they would not be allowed to return again. Thus, they filled the boats until they lay low in the water with every person that yet remained; and much that they had thought to bring with them they instead left abandoned on the beaches of Araman.

Many and happy were the reunions between Fëanor’s people and Fingolfin’s when at last all had arrived safely in Middle-earth; for there had been many of the same kin, or who were bound closely in friendship, who had been divided by their loyalty to the one or to the other. And though some suspicion remained over the first deceitful taking of the ships, yet Fingolfin himself stated before them all that he bore his brother no grudge, since he returned for them at the last; and having accomplished their journey successfully, he forgave all that had been done in the past. And Fingolfin vowed to follow Fëanor, as he had before in Valinor; and though in this all his people were not wholly pleased, they nevertheless obeyed their lord and recognized the first-born son of Finwë as the rightful king of the Noldor. Nerdanel also at this time came up and joined with her people, and relented and allowed them to call her their queen, though a division deep and chill lay still between her and Fëanor; and she dwelt not with him.

Fingolfin and his people joined Fëanor’s at Lake Mithrim, and added greatly to their number; they built upon both the north shore and the south many new dwellings and fortifications, and learned of the battle that had been fought already, the deeds of bravery that their kin had performed, and all that they now knew of Morgoth and the strength of his forces. For even as the ships had crossed and recrossed the sea, messengers had come to Fëanor at Mithrim from Morgoth saying that he acknowledged the might of the Noldor, and would meet with them to discuss terms, if not of surrender, then at least of truce; but when they named even the Silmarils as a peace offering, Fëanor had them immediately put to death, loath as he was to hear the name of his creations upon such foul lips. Yet he could not, for his oath’s sake, wholly ignore the possibility of reclaiming even one of his precious jewels. His son Celegorm he sent to that meeting, with a force larger than had been agreed upon; and with them also was Huan, greatest of Celegorm’s hounds, who had been given to him by Oromë. Thus it was Huan, scenting upon the air, who knew first that Morgoth had sent also a force greater even than theirs, and that there were Balrogs among them; and being so warned, Celegorm and his warriors lay in wait for them, slew those they could, and retreated ere even one of their own had been slain.

Then the Noldor knew for certain that they would never obtain that which they sought by diplomacy, but only by subtlety and theft, or by open force. And when Fingolfin had heard all they had to tell, he cautioned his brother, saying: ‘His orcs we may cut down before us as grass, and his Balrogs hunt as game, but Morgoth himself, as thou hast said, is of the Valar, and it may be that the power of all the Eldar together could not defeat him. Yea, it is said that in time of old Manwë and Varda, Yavanna and Tulkas, with all their arts together could hardly do so, and that in their fury the very face of the land was changed where they battled. Yet think not that all hope is vain! For Eru has blessed his children with many gifts, and wisdom and skill may triumph where power has not.’

Fëanor then desired above all to discover what secrets Morgoth kept concealed within Angband, and under what protections the Silmarils were kept; and he hoped from this to glean some notion of what the greatest of the Valar feared, and if he possessed any weakness whereby they might have the advantage of him. Of the treasures that had survived the sack of Formenos, among the most prized were the Palantíri, great round stones within which could be viewed images of things afar off; and to these first Fëanor turned as he sought to gather intelligence. By the use of the Palantíri he learned much of Beleriand, the form of the land and its peoples; the Dwarves who delved in the mountains far to the east he saw, and the river Gelion and the seven rivers which added unto it, Ossiriand of the Nandor; and to the south the mighty river Sirion, which flowed down to the great Bay of Balar where Cirdan’s people dwelt. But when he turned his gaze north and attempted to see into the Enemy’s stronghold, his intention was frustrated, for beyond the cliffs of Thangorodrim all appeared as if shrouded in darkness; and hidden also from him was Doriath, the realm of Elu Thingol, by the art of Melian, its queen. To the west he looked not, for he said that nothing that he loved had he left behind there, nor anything he built that he could not make again, and better; but some say that he would not risk drawing to himself the attention of the Valar.

In the face of this obstacle to his designs Fëanor yielded not, but redoubled his effort, and bent all his will toward the penetration of the dark veil which impeded him. Indeed so fixated had he become on finding out that which he desired to know that he neglected to fulfill nearly all of the duties that the people might expect of their King; and the Noldor looked rather to Fingolfin to lead them as they sought to establish themselves and build more permanent places of dwelling. Fingolfin it was that sent the children of Finarfin as emissaries to Thingol; for their mother being the daughter of his brother Olwë, they could claim kinship with him; and Fingolfin hoped thereby to gain a powerful alliance, or at the least leave to occupy the lands round about, where before few had dwelt save Morgoth’s spawn. 

And when a year had passed (as well as they could reckon by the movement of the stars, for this was still before the first rising of the Sun and the Moon), the Noldor had spread themselves abroad to fill all Hithlum; and some had begun to explore the lands to the south and to the east. And Angrod son of Finarfin returned out of Doriath bearing tidings from its king; and it was made known that Thingol had no great love nor warm welcome for these newcomers out of the west, save those of his kin whom he honored as guests, but neither had he the power to forbid them from his lands, though he claimed lordship over all Beleriand. The Noldor for the most part dealt fairly and courteously with the Sindar of Hithlum, and sought their friendship, even to learning their language and using that tongue in all dealings between the peoples; and if the Sindar still mistrusted their unlooked for arrival, they spoke not of it. Dwarves also they met, those that had travelled far to the west of their mountain home, and although some of the Noldor saw only the crudeness of their physical forms and loved them little, others delighted in their knowledge of craft and metalwork, and learned much of them.

Now Fëanor still could not by any means divine more concerning his Enemy from afar; and his sons came to him, being of one mind, and presented unto him a scheme they had devised among themselves whereby a small force might penetrate Morgoth's stronghold as an army could not, and they purposed, if not to retake the Silmarils outright, at least to bring back information enough to develop some further strategy against him. At first, Fëanor flatly refused them; for they wished to undertake the task themselves, with perhaps a few others only to support them, relying on their closeness as brothers and the skills they knew well each one possessed to aid them. And in this Nerdanel spoke for once in agreement with her husband, for she also was loath to risk all her sons in such a perilous quest. Yet after much persuading, by each of them after their own nature, Fëanor relented; for the Oath weighed heavily upon all who had sworn it, and their fate bent ever toward that which would further its fulfillment. Their mother remained troubled by this undertaking, but when it became clear they would not be swayed from it, she exercised all her skill in making for each of them such protections as she could, to guard them as they passed beneath the Enemy’s shadow.

Thus when all had been prepared and while the stars alone still shone over Middle-earth, the seven sons of Fëanor set forth northward toward Angband, along with twelve others whom Fëanor most trusted (and Fingon their cousin, who was called the Valiant, would fain have followed them; but Maedhros forbade him.) They travelled for as long as they could in hidden places in deep gorges and beneath thick trees, where they might not be seen by any spy of Morgoth’s that their own scouts had not found out and slain. Maedhros led them, and oft supplied wise counsel in times of need. And when they passed into the barren places of the far north where no tree would grow to shelter them, Maglor it was who sang up a powerful enchantment around them to disguise their forms and confuse the minds of any who looked upon them. Celegorm, and Huan who would not be parted from him, stayed alert for any sign that they had been noticed, and taught them all the tricks of hart and hare, fox and boar to evade capture, as those beasts did when once they hunted them in the forests of Oromë. Caranthir had since they first met them learned more than any of Dwarves and their ways, and when they had approached Angband from all sides and could find no entrance, he used what lore he had gleaned of caves and delvings, and discovered at last the secret tunnels by which the armies of the orcs passed in and out upon their master’s errands. Having thus gained at last entry into their enemy’s stronghold, Curufin, who among the brothers resembled their father most in mind and mood and understood best the true nature of his works, led them unerringly through winding catacombs and choked tunnels, vast caverns and great burning pits, toward their utmost goal, in the hope that if they could not retrieve the Silmarils he could at least, seeing in what manner they were situated, report to their father and devise a way that they might be used against Morgoth. As they traversed that hellish place, Amrod, who had since their arrival in Beleriand developed great skill in the surveying of land and the making of maps, now faithfully recorded their path such that they would not lose their way even had they need to retreat in haste. And though in the depths they encountered diverse poisons and noxious vapors, Amras had learned of the Sindar much lore of healing plants and medicines, and no harm nor wound did any of them take that he could not heal.

Many things did they witness and take note of as they travelled, concerning the number and kind of the Enemy’s forces, and all the goods and treasures he hoarded within. And after what may have been hours or days in those dark places, they found themselves before the very throne of Morgoth himself, and him seated there; and upon his head was a crown of iron in which the Silmarils had been set. Then that spell by which they had hidden themselves was pierced by a power greater than any of theirs, and they knew themselves to be discovered. Immediately, they turned and, by the guidance of Amrod, retreated back the way they had come, now under heavy pursuit; for Curufin had in that brief moment seen all that was necessary to bring the Enemy to utter ruin. Arduous was their flight, ever harried by innumerable foes; yet the cunning which had gained them entry failed them not in their escape. Many grievous wounds they suffered, in truth, and none more than Maedhros, who would allow no other to take up the rearguard; yet in time they breathed once more clean air and beheld above them the light of the stars, and had lost of their number not one. Slow and stealthy was their journey back to Mithrim, as they tended to their injured and evaded those bands of orcs that still searched for the lurking intruders. All greeted them with great gladness and celebration when finally they returned.

Then Curufin sat long in council with his father as he reported what they had learned of Morgoth, his forces, and especially of the Silmarils. All this Fëanor pondered longer still, alone, until at last, drawing on all the lore and skill that had once produced such great works, he forged a weapon with which he hoped to humble even a Vala. Many years he spent in study and toil, while the Noldor grew in number and in strength, and no doubt Morgoth’s forces likewise. That which he wrought seemed as a javelin in form, for to achieve its proper effect it had need to be buried deep within a particular place on Morgoth’s own body; and its tip was of crystal like unto that of which the Silmarils were made. By this means, Fëanor hoped to access the true power of the Silmarils, of which he alone had knowledge, and to destroy Morgoth in body at least, that his oath might be fulfilled and the Silmarils reclaimed.

Yet he knew well that to entice Morgoth personally to come out to battle would be no easy task, and that they would need be prepared to face all his armies of orcs, his Balrogs and other spirits that attended him, and all other foul creatures he had meanwhile devised, and to perhaps break the very gates of Angband itself to reach him if he could by no other wise be persuaded to leave its safety. Fëanor wavered then, knowing not whether it would be wiser to wait, gather allies among Thingol’s folk and the kingdoms of the Dwarves, further entrench their own power and develop and forge for themselves even greater weapons and armor than they now had; or whether of those same years Morgoth would have more benefit than they, and that they should instead strike while they had the best advantage.

Amid this moment of doubt, the first fruits of the Doom which had been spoken over the Noldor were revealed: for although the Noldor for the most part would have it forgotten, rumors began to spread of the terrible deeds that had been performed at Alqualondë; and whether this came to pass by the secret workings of the Enemy or merely the twisted strands of fate it cannot be known. Yet word of this reached finally the ears of King Thingol; and he was wroth, and not even for the sake of Finarfin’s children, who had taken no part in the slaughter, would he ally with those he deemed Kinslayers or send any army to join their fight against Morgoth, but closed the borders of Doriath entirely and trusted in the enchantments of Melian to protect his own people. Yet of his captains, Daegond the Adamant would not heed the call of his king to return from their camp at Hithlum; for he had wed Cuilend, a lady among Fëanor’s followers, and had become persuaded that in contending with Morgoth directly lay the only hope for his people or hers; and many of those he led, being of like mind, chose to remain with him.

Now when this had come to pass, Fingolfin was troubled, and wondered whether it would ever be their fate that their past misdeeds would frustrate their future designs. Yet when envoys were sent anew to Belegost and Nogrod, the Dwarves seemed to care little regarding any conflict between the kindreds of the Elves, and by the words of Fëanor many were persuaded to join with the Noldor in war; for they knew well what it was to love the works of their own hands, and would not abide that such a thief as Morgoth be allowed to walk free and unpunished. 

And when all who would come had joined at their side, the Noldor and their allies marched forth toward Angband, for though Fëanor had some desire for further preparation, Fingolfin’s heart warned him that to delay any longer was to invite disaster. And just as their trumpets sounded, there came the first rising of the Moon, shining with a silver light as Telperion had once before; and the spirits of the Noldor were lifted, but the forces of Morgoth were dismayed.

Nevertheless the armies of the orcs came to meet them; but of these their number and disposition were known by the efforts of the sons of Fëanor, and they were caught between forces of the Noldor and that of the dwarves, and dazzled by a brightness greater than any that had before been seen in Middle-earth. Exceedingly few were those of the orcs that escaped death by axe or by sword. For fear of their dread master they dared not retreat, but fled into the wild places of the north.

Before the gates of Angband Balrogs stood guard, and some of the Eldar indeed fell beneath their whips of flame, ere the strength of their armies overwhelmed them. Many there committed acts of valor then that were afterward long-remembered; and Fingon, at the head of all of these, fought and slew Gothmog, their lord.

Then came forth the most terrible of Morgoth’s lieutenants, he who was later named Sauron, the Abhorred, and with him a horde of werewolves, of which they had no foreknowledge, huge and sharp-fanged. Many of these Huan dispatched, with Celegorm, and also Amrod and Amras beside him; and although the slavering jaws of the wolves left poisoned wounds slow to heal, they fell before so many great hunters. But Sauron withstood them, and the power of his song was great, and the Noldor and their allies fell into doubt and despair at the sound of it. Yet amid the confusion one voice rose up in challenge. Finrod it was who sought to match Sauron’s song with his own, and loud the sound of their battle carried over the field as each attempted to dominate the will of the other. And when Finrod at last appeared to falter, his sister Galadriel, among the most stalwart of the women of the Noldor, stood by his side to sustain him, and lent him her own power; and before the might of them both Sauron could not endure. Then they would have taken him, and bound him, and made him to reveal all the secret lore he may have possessed; but he, being a Maia, shed his body as a serpent sheds its skin, and as a naked spirit flew far to the east. There he dwelt for long years in places of deep shadow, rebuilding his power; and other tales may tell what evil deeds in after days he wrought.

Finally no foe remained to bar their way; and the gates of Angband were cast down, and the armies of the Noldor entered, with Fëanor in the lead rushing ever farther ahead of his company, so that soon none but Fingolfin followed close behind him. Continually as he stalked through Angband’s corridors Fëanor cried out for Morgoth to come and face him; yet whether from fear or for some unknowable purpose of his own, Morgoth answered him not. Then the brothers entered into the vast throne room and found Morgoth there, the Silmarils shining within his crown; and at last their enemy bestirred himself and rose to meet them. His great hammer he took in his hand, and said unto them, “The dying screams of your father I have had already the pleasure of hearing; come you here that I may have yours as well?”

“For our father’s sake, for the sake of all who have perished by thy wickedness, for the loss of all I once held dear, death I shall deal thee quickly. This I, Fëanor son of Finwë, have sworn,” he answered him, and leapt forward to pierce him with the weapon he had made. Yet Morgoth, though he had made a form for himself colossal in size, was still swift to strike in response, and with a blow of his hammer hurled Fëanor to one side. 

Fingolfin then, his sword Ringil in his hand, charged against Morgoth as well; yet being but a little more cautious than his brother, he evaded many fatal blows, and so threatened him with his own attacks that all Morgoth’s attention was turned upon him. Fëanor then rose from where he lay, for though great had been his injury, greater still was the fire that drove him; and he took up again his weapon and essayed to put it to its use. Yet so furious did Morgoth and Fingolfin strive together, and so rapid were their movements, that he could find no opening in which to strike. 

Fingolfin at last dealt to Morgoth a mighty wound in his foot, and following through knocked him down entirely; and the earth itself shook with the force of his fall. Fingolfin then drove his sword through the hand of Morgoth as he raised it in defense, and using all his strength lay over him and pinned him there that Fëanor might deal the final blow. Yet Fëanor hesitated, for his brother’s body covered beneath him that spot in the neck of Morgoth where he must pierce him; and he knew that should Fingolfin move at all, Morgoth would escape and might overpower them. Fingolfin looked at his brother then, and said to him: 'Quickly, now'; for he would sacrifice even his own life that their enemy might be defeated.

But Fëanor, reluctant now to achieve that which he had once in anger threatened to do, sought in those few remaining moments any path by which he might gain his goal and yet not bring harm to his brother. He saw suddenly that if he stood instead on a place on the other side of those two, he might have an angle of attack whereby Fingolfin would be hurt less or perhaps not at all; yet as he crossed over to it, Morgoth with his hand that was still free swung to strike him. This Fëanor moved not at all to avoid, but took where already he had been wounded, and let the force of it push him onward to the place he desired to be.

Once there he saw that he could avoid doing much harm to Fingolfin, but not all; yet he hesitated no more, but drove home the crystal-tipped javelin he had made, opening a deep gash in Fingolfin’s side and piercing deep into Morgoth’s neck. The Silmarils then, blessed by the hand of Varda to harm all evil things, redoubled in their brilliance, intensified by the craft with which the javelin-tip had been forged, until by their brightness they reduced the body of Morgoth utterly to ash, and his crown of iron melted around them.

Fëanor, seeing then the fulfillment of his oath, bound up his brother’s wound though his own pained him greatly; and ere long his sons arrived with the armies of the Noldor behind them, and all marvelled at what had been done. And as they returned in triumph to Mithrim, bearing the Silmarils with them, a new light, golden and more radiant still than the silver disc of the Moon, rose up out of the west and brought to all Middle-earth a brightness nigh to that of Aman in the days of old; yet the true light of the Trees the Silmarils alone preserved. All creatures of Morgoth that had not yet been destroyed fled from the light, and lurked not but in darkest recesses of the earth.

Then came to pass the days of the glory of the Noldor; for having defeated Morgoth and reclaimed the Silmarils, they dwelt in peace and freedom as had been their hope and desire ere they travelled east. And they celebrated many marriages, both among themselves and often with the Sindar and Avari of Beleriand, and added children unto their houses, and created many new works of great beauty, and had much trade with those they considered their friends.

And when even Eonwë, herald of Manwë came at last to Middle-earth, the Valar desiring at last to see what had befallen the Exiles, Fëanor turned him away, saying that the Noldor had not repented their forsaking of the Valar’s protection, nor had they any need of their help.

And if by this they seem to have escaped the Doom once spoken over them by Mandos, it can only be said that mysterious are the gifts that Eru grants unto his children, to do with ever as they will, and many parts of the Music lay beyond the comprehension of the Valar before the creation of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to _Homestuck_ 's Dirk Strider, who is a better bro than he thinks he is.


End file.
